


Hand of God

by rainygalaxynerd



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Reality, Confusing but true for this fic, Don't expect smut or happy endings in 900 words, Gen, I might have gotten a nopetopus on tumblr for this one, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Portals, Reader-Insert, Season 11, Yes AU AND Alternate Reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 05:28:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7301326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainygalaxynerd/pseuds/rainygalaxynerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Dean Friggin' Winchester suddenly showed up in your living room and asked you to come with him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hand of God

You were sipping a cup of coffee, enjoying a blessedly slow morning after seeing the kids off to school. Suddenly your ears started ringing louder and louder, until you didn’t know if you were going to faint or throw up first. You were thinking how you had never had a panic attack like this before, when in front of your eyes something bright appeared. It soon turned incandescent even as the deafening noise roared to a crescendo; a tiny sun in your living room. You squeezed your eyes tightly, while pressing your hands over your ears. Even from behind your eyelids the light was too bright.

Then there was silence. The light faded until you could open your eyes without being blinded. You slowly blinked them open, thinking you needed to call your Doctor. This was way worse than anything you had experienced before. But then you saw what was now in front of you. Shading you from a ring of light, was a man; a man you knew very well. But he wasn’t real. He wasn’t really there in front of you, had to be an illusion. And he wasn’t even a real man, he was a character in a TV-show. You resigned yourself to the knowledge that when your kids returned from school, you would be elsewhere. Somewhere with soft padding on the wall and straight jackets.

“Y/N,” the hallucination said, watching you carefully. “We need your help.” You wanted to tell him that he wasn’t real, but talking to a hallucination seemed futile. You squeezed your eyes shut again and hoped he’d disappear. A heavy hand fell on your shoulder, warm, strong, _real_. “I’m not going back without you,” he said. You looked up into his eyes, right there in front of you. Those eyes that you had been so entranced by, sometimes bright green, sometimes mossy green, sometimes with little flecks of light brown in them. Always swirling with so many emotions, that you until now had thought fictitious, works of art. Right now they held decisiveness and desperation; you should know better than to argue with him when he looked like that.

“I can’t,” you told him. “I can’t go with you. You’re not real.” He grabbed both your shoulders and shook you lightly, bent down to gaze into your eyes.  
“You can,” he said. “You have to. Don’t you remember?” You shook your head hysterically. Part of you wanted him to be real so badly. And part of you knew that he was and what it meant.  
“Dean,” you gasped. “I can’t go with you, I won’t leave my children.” You felt tears running now, but it didn’t matter, you knew he wouldn’t listen.  
“If you don’t come, the world’s gonna end.” He grabbed your hand and began pulling you towards the portal.  
“Stop!” you yelled, pulling your hand from his grasp. “ _Your_ world is gonna end. Not this one. If I go with you, I’m as good as dead. Don’t look at me like that, it won’t be your fault, but that’s how your world works. It was made to self destruct, made for people to suffer and sacrifice, only to let you and Sam save it. I’m not leaving my kids.”

Incredulity spread across his face, as he realized you meant every word. You tried to placate the anger now burning behind his green eyes.  
“You’ll figure it out yourselves,” you whispered. “You always do.” A single tear slid down his cheek.  
“Not this time,” was all he said, but he turned and walked back to the portal. He gave you one last look, heartbreak and resentment his farewell gift to you. Then he vanished and the portal closed. It was just another blessedly quiet morning. You cried for hours, but trusted you had made the right decision. They would manage without you, of course they would. You belonged here now. Finally opening your computer, a news headline caught your eye, and the tears came back tenfold.

**CW announces: The end - No twelfth season of the hit series Supernatural.**

You stared at the words, horrified. You were in no way sure how your world and theirs correlated but somehow you couldn’t help feeling guilty. You couldn’t shake the surety that the Winchesters and their world was gone for good this time. You were about to bawl your eyes out, when the ringing sound returned, full power. As the light grew dim enough for you to open your eyes again, Castiel stood before you.

“Y/N,” he said. “Now you know what happens without you. I can zap you back, you can stop this. It is not too late.”  
You stared at him. A second chance. But still… Your life, your children. They needed you.  
“Y/N!” Castiel implored you. “I will return you safely to this very moment. I swear, on my LIFE. No one will know you were gone. I _will_ keep you safe.”  
Your heart was pounding away, you felt dizzy with fear. But this was Castiel, an angel of the lord, and you trusted him. How couldn’t you? You took his hand and followed him through the portal.

Two weeks later:

**BuddyTV is thrilled to announce: CW network revokes unpopular decision and picks up another season of hit show Supernatural.**

**Local paper: Mother of three still missing.**

**BuddyTV: Running for governor - Misha Collins not signed on as regular on season 12.**


End file.
